


There Was Still Paperwork

by DandelionDrabbles (AnonymousDandelion)



Series: Dialogue Prompt Fills [21]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst dialogue prompt, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Feelings Realization, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), M/M, Mentioned Crowley (Good Omens), Not the happy kind, Paperwork, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Stressed Aziraphale (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), aziraphale just discovered these things, let's be real: "angst" and "paperwork" are effectively synonyms (especially in good omens), though he's good at not-quite-lying on paperwork, which is to say heaven is a bureaucracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousDandelion/pseuds/DandelionDrabbles
Summary: Crowley had departed after the offered lift home, leaving Aziraphale free to fall apart over his newfound realization....And that, of course, was when the MIF (Miracle Inquest Form) materialized on Aziraphale’s desk, his unscheduled miracle having been flagged for review.(Angst dialogue prompt fill #6.)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Dialogue Prompt Fills [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996120
Comments: 18
Kudos: 73
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	There Was Still Paperwork

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while (oops, sorry) — but we're back with a little helping of Aziraphale angst for today's prompt fill! :')
> 
> The prompt, as usual, can be found in the end notes.

_Bomb._

_Books._

_Oh lord._

Crowley had departed after the offered lift home, leaving Aziraphale free to fall apart over his newfound realization.

_He loves me._

_Oh,_ lord.

I _love_ Crowley.

_We are an angel and a demon, and we love each other._

_Dear_ _lord, what are we going to_ do?

_What…_

…And that, of course, was when the MIF (Miracle Inquest Form) materialized on Aziraphale’s desk, his unscheduled miracle having been flagged for review.

Having a breakdown in peace, Aziraphale thought as he picked up a pen, was clearly too much to ask.

~ ~ ~

MIFs were better than discorporation paperwork, but that wasn’t saying much.

Aziraphale filled in the redundant personal information. Name, rank, mission. He confirmed timestamp, location, and energy expenditure of the miracle under investigation. He affirmed that said miracle had not detracted from his primary assignments. He noted that he was within his quarterly budget.

Section A complete, he moved on to Section B.

**Summary of Miracle**

Keep it simple, Aziraphale reminded himself. Whatever he reported needed to be true enough to verify.

He wrote: _Protecting select parties against effects of explosive._

**Justification for Miracle**

Someone had noted in the margins: **_Performed while under strict bear-witness-but-do-not-interfere orders._ **[1]

Aziraphale defaulted to his most well-worn justification. _Countering infernal activity._

He swallowed, feeling it all over again, that moment in the church. Alone, betrayed, played for a sucker, facing discorporation, and then… 

_Adversary performed demonic intervention, redirecting explosive to strike consecrated ground. Miraculous counter-maneuver was necessary to thwart machinations of the Enemy._

Next field: **Parties Impacted By Miracle**

Aziraphale gripped his pen.

_Shielded corporation, thus enabling my continued work in service of the Great Plan. Also removed all holy water from the vicinity,_

—that horrifying moment, all his consciousness narrowed to the necessity of keeping Crowley safe, when he’d realized with a split second to act that airborne liquid posed an infinitely greater danger than any bomb—

_thus averting desecration of sacred substances. Note: Did not shield proximate humans, in accordance with bear-witness-but-do-not-interfere._

Aziraphale hesitated. If Administration decided to run the calculations — unlikely, but possible — they might notice a disparity between the miracle size and the number of protected parties indicated on the form.

He couldn’t list Crowley, of course. Which meant…

Aziraphale steeled himself, and returned pen to paper.

_Books_

—the angel responsible for reviewing MIFs might not know what those were—

_(material belongings used to transmit teachings) were also shielded from destruction._

Claiming credit for Crowley’s blessings had never felt so painful. Every pen stroke was another offense, lodging itself in Aziraphale’s heart.

He kept writing.

_Books in question included teachings of Divinely Inspired humans, thus their preservation serves the Greater Good._

Whoever processed the MIF might see through that last sentence, Aziraphale’s unfortunate penchant for materialism being no secret from his colleagues. That was all right. It meant they wouldn’t question whether the miracle had been spent on something, or someone, other than books.

~ ~ ~

Aziraphale finished the rest of the form. He reread his work with care, checking for any errors, ensuring that nothing he had written hinted too closely at what had actually transpired at the church.

Then he put his pen down, sealed the MIF, turned it in with a finger snap, and — though he’d lost the flow — tried to resume his interrupted breakdown.

“I don’t want material belongings!” Aziraphale told the cushions of the couch that he’d considered Crowley’s since 1800. The words came out with unexpected force. “I want my heart back!”

It wasn’t true.

What Aziraphale really wanted — and what he could never have — was the freedom to give his heart away.

**Author's Note:**

> 1 The do-not-interfere orders were, in fact, the reason that Aziraphale had decided to get involved with British Intelligence in the first place. Doing anything in the angelic sphere to combat War was explicitly off-limits, but he couldn’t just stand by and do _nothing_ …[return to text]
> 
> Prompt: “I don’t want material belongings! I want my heart back!”
> 
> (It's going to be okay, Aziraphale, I promise... just give it a little over three quarters of a century...)
> 
> If you happened to like this piece, kudos and/or comments are always seen and very much appreciated (as well as motivating me to keep writing) — but of course, never any pressure whatsoever! In any case, thanks for your time, and please take care of yourself, you fabulous reader person. :)


End file.
